His Own Shoes
by carlsi01
Summary: Neville Longbottom always lived in the shadows of those considered greater than him. But his seventh year at Hogwarts pushes him to be something greater. Rated M for language, future violence, torture, and sexual content. Slash.
1. Chapter 1: Coming Home

**His Own Shoes**

 _Chapter One: Coming Home_

 _So much loss,_ thought Neville as he absentmindedly stroked his Devil's Snare. It often curled around his right wrist as it did now, mitigating the twinges he still occasionally felt from his broom accident his first year.

"… and then we could even enlist the house-elves, couldn't we, Neville?"

Neville shook himself quickly out of his reverie. "What?" he asked, trying to identify who had spoken to him.

Ginny pawed at his robes impatiently. "If we're going to keep non-purebloods safe," she explained slowly, "we're going to have to hold down a safe place. And could ask the house-elves for help. For food and stuff."

"And possibly also for patrols," interjected Ernie Macmillan. His arm was draped around Pavarti Patil; they had started dating over the summer. His new Head Boy badge gleamed noticeably from his chest. "We won't be able to keep an eye on everything without drawing suspicion that we're up to something."

Neville nodded in agreement. His gaze flickered over to Justin Finch-Fletchley as he considered the danger they were all riding towards.

As a pureblood, Neville had some stature – and therefore protection. Many of his friends, however, did not.

* * *

They were on their way to their seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were off doing who-knows-what, leaving the rest of Dumbledore's Army to fend for itself. They had all gathered in a large compartment together. Tension was palpable throughout the entire train, the Prefects among them reported. But it was not the normal, excited sort of tension that normally permeated the Hogwarts Express. Instead, for the first time, there was fear.

The day was grey, rainy, and colder than the beginning of September warranted. Students had shuffled onto the train in heavy wool cloaks, which were usually packed near the bottom of trunks and not shaken out until mid-November. Neville had been able to find Luna in the sea of black quickly; her sky-blue cloak temporarily broke the heavy sadness that pressed down upon them.

No one knew exactly what to expect at Hogwarts after Dumbledore's death. Their school letters had come as usual, but mentioned no news of a new Headmaster. The fall of the Ministry (and the disappearance of the Golden Trio) had sent the D.A. into a flurry of activity. Those who could apparate often showed up on Neville's doorstep with younger members in tow, ready to work.

They pored over maps and books (especially _Hogwarts, A History_ ), looking for long-forgotten secrets that they could exploit. Fred and George Weasley were enlisted to create a new version of the Maurader's Map for their use. Neville's drawing room, much to Augusta Longbottom's chagrin, was wallpapered with the faces of Voldemort's known followers. The pictures leered menacingly whenever someone walked in. The members of Dumbledore's Army took turns quizzing each other on their enemies' faces. They hexed each other into oblivion, preparing themselves for defensive and offensive encounters. If something went wrong, Tonks was around enough to show them how to fix injuries. She avoided the Ministry more often than not now, like many others in the Order.

Neville's kitchen, once cheery, adopted an atmosphere much like Snape's dungeon. Slughorn had privately tutored Neville in potion-making during his sixth year. No longer under Snape's cruel supervision, Neville had developed moderate skill in brewing potions. For additional help, Ernie was particularly adept at explaining to Neville _why_ a potion had to be made a certain way; it was a breath of fresh air after Hermione, who had only barked instructions feverishly during class.

With his newfound skills, Neville often stayed up through the night, brewing healing potions he prayed would not be depleted before more could be made. After his seventeenth birthday at the end of July, he had full command of the Longbottom fortune, making it easy to buy expensive necessities like Essence of Murtlap. They had no way of knowing if they could bring these items in once at Hogwarts.

On the evening before they boarded the Hogwarts Express, Justin brought everyone new trunks. "They're a Muggle contraption, you see," he said as he showed the gathered members how to disengage the false bottom. "If they inspect our luggage – _when_ they inspect our luggage – no magical fallacies will be detected."

"So we can bring anything in?" Luna traced her fingers along her new trunk wonderingly.

"Anything," Justin asserted. He caught Neville's eye and smiled.

Neville felt himself blush.

* * *

He hoped no one would blush now. Death Eaters, led by the blonde Yaxley, were all but ransacking the train. Ginny leaned over and pulled gently on his sleeve. "I don't think they're looking for contraband," she murmured. "I think they're looking for Harry."

Neville nodded once. Steeling himself, he stood up. Yaxley looked over with a start.

"Hey, losers," Neville said stoutly. His legs shook beneath him, betraying his fear. "He's not here."

The only comfort to Neville when they arrived at Hogsmeade was the sight of thestrals pulling the carriages. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen to greet the first years; instead, a man and woman stood together at the head of the queue of students getting off the train, long lists of parchment in their hands.

"It's the Carrows," Michael Corner said. "Amycus, that big git over there, and his sister Alecto."

"What are they checking?" inquired Luna, craning her neck.

"Blood status, probably," a gangly fourth-year said over her shoulder. Justin paled. "Or making sure you're not Harry bloody Potter," she added as an afterthought.

"D'you think they'll let me back in?" Justin mumbled to Neville. His forehead was creased with worry.

"We're going to get you in." Neville purposefully avoided answering Justin's question. His mind raced with different scenarios; of all the planning Dumbledore's Army had done, this was a situation they had not considered.

The queue inched closer and closer to the Carrows.

"Polyjuice," said Ernie suddenly. "It's undetectable. Tell them you're me, then I'll go through ten minutes later and say I had to double back for Head Boy duties." He bent to rummage through his trunk. "Aha." He held up a small flask. Ripping a couple strands of hair from his head, Ernie handed the flask to Justin.

"Brilliant," Justin breathed. He took a swig of the potion. Neville, Ernie, Michael, and Ginny stood around him as he transformed, looking around to make sure no one else was watching.

Ernie headed to the back of the line.

They moved closer to the Carrows. With every step, Justin's breathing got more labored. When they were ten people back, Neville grabbed Justin's upper arm. "You're going to be fine," he said, looking Justin straight in the eyes. "We're going to get you through this."

"But what about after we're inside?" asked Justin. His breaths were getting shorter and shorter.

"This is our home," Neville said, clenching Justin's arm tighter. "Hogwarts is our home. It belongs to us. It will keep us – it'll keep _you_ – safe."

The queue in front of them shuffled ahead. Justin took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I'm Ernie Macmillan," he said under his breath, in perfect imitation of his best friend. "I'm Ernie Macmillan, and I am Head Boy."

* * *

That evening after supper, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and Ernie gathered in Professor McGonagall's office. McGonagall, Neville noted, looked like she had aged ten years over the summer.

"That was… enlightening," Neville offered, breaking the silence. The Welcoming Feast had been much shorter than usual. Severus Snape, their new Headmaster, had seen the hatred in so many students' eyes. Instead of making speeches, he had merely sat in his chair, offering no welcome, watching as McGonagall took care of the Sorting.

There were fewer First Years this year. Probably, Neville thought with a sinking stomach, because Muggle-borns hadn't received any sort of letter in the mail. The Sorting Hat also made no grandiose speeches, choosing only to recite the virtues of each House. Neville thought it lingered overlong on Slytherin.

"Aye," said Ernie tiredly. Getting Justin safely to the Hufflepuff dormitories had been easy enough, after Michael had thought to conjure Justin his own Head Boy badge. Hannah Abbott, due to health issues after her mother died, had her own dormitory, which she quickly offered to share with Justin. Ernie explained the situation hastily to McGonagall. She nodded.

"I cannot guarantee anyone's safety," McGonagall said, a slight tremor in her voice. "I cannot offer you more than my support, silent as it may be."

"We understand," said Ginny. The disappointment was still obvious on everyone's faces.

"The arrival of the Carrows was not unexpected, but I fear their methods will prove detrimental…"

McGonagall was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. The color drained from her face.

Amycus Carrow shouldered his way in through the solid oak door. His wand was already out. "And what the hell is going on here?" As he looked around the room, a smirk grew on his twisted face. "Potter's pets, I see," he growled as he walked up to Ginny. He grabbed a long strand of red hair off of her shoulder. "Discussing the whereabouts of our mutual friend, are we?" he hissed into her ear.

"This is a N.E.W.T. preparation class," McGonagall spat through her teeth. She clutched the back of her chair for support, her knuckles white. "These students need remediation to pass, as we were just discussing –"

"Remediation, my arse," said Carrow, letting go of Ginny's hair and turning to the professor. Ginny shrank up against the wall next to Luna. "You're plotting something." He stared at each student in turn, daring them to break. His efforts were met with icy stares. "You can't protect them forever, Minerva," Carrow grunted. He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Neville rushed to support Ginny, who was barely steady on her feet. McGonagall slumped back down into her chairs.

"I should escort you back to your common rooms, it would seem," she said, eyes downturned. "Hogwarts is no longer safe for its students."


	2. Chapter Two: Privileges

_Chapter Two: Privileges_

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Neville watched as he tossed his new Prefect badge up to the canopy of his bed, only to have it fall down again. A letter – parchment with purple ink – lay open on his bedside table. 

_Dear Mr. Longbottom,_

 _In light of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley's absences, I have elected to select you and Paravati Patil as Gryffindor Prefects._

 _I trust you will both take your responsibilities seriously, especially considering recent events._

 _Kindly report to the School Heads at your earliest convenience with Miss Patil._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Professor M. McGonagall_

Neville couldn't say that he hadn't been expecting this. McGonagall had promised support; making him a Prefect gave Neville the power to patrol, the ability to set discipline for students, and, most importantly, access to restricted parts of the castle.

"Neville?" he heard his name being called from the common room. Groaning, he pulled himself out of bed and fastened the Prefect badge to his robes.

Parvati was waiting for him at the foot of the staircase. "Just got my letter," she said, holding it up. "D'you want to see the Heads now or later?"

"Might as well go now," Neville shrugged. He pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait. "After you, then."

The Head Boy and Girl's apartments were located on the second floor near the Great Hall. Neville lifted his fist to knock, then turned to Parvati. "I don't actually know who the Head Girl is, to be honest," he said, giving pause.

"They didn't send that information out this year, but I thought I heard Ernie mention –"

"Well, well, Longbottom," a drawling voice from behind them said. "Forgotten how to knock, have we?"

"Didn't realize you were Head Girl, Malfoy," retorted Neville, turning around. "Although it makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it…"

Draco's mouth was already curled into a sneer. But Neville noticed that his eyes looked tired and hollow – more so than in their sixth year. "I'm here to see my _girlfriend,_ you arse," he said, his words dragging more slowly than usual. "But I don't suppose you know what that is." He made for the door, reaching his pale hand out for the knob.

The door flew open before Draco could even turn the handle, sending him sprawling. A flurry of black robes whirled out of the apartment, shrieking all the while. It was as though a Howler had exploded right there in the hallway.

"SALAZAR'S BALLS, DRACO, WHY THE _HELL_ WEREN'T YOU ON THE TRAIN YESTERDAY, I'VE BEEN WORRIED ABSOLUTELY _SICK_ AND EVEN WROTE A LETTER TO YOUR MOTHER THIS MORNING, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN _DEAD_ FOR ALL I KNEW…"

Pansy Parkinson stopped short as she caught sight of Neville and Parvati. "And just _what_ ," she spat, "are you two _blood traitors_ doing here?" She proffered her hand to Draco, practically pulling him up when he took it.

"They're here because they're _Prefects,_ Pansy." Ernie slunk out of the apartment, looking as though he had already had it out multiple times with the pug-faced Slytherin. "We're supposed to give them instructions… which you would know if you hadn't been trying to convince Headmaster Snape to let you to Floo to Malfoy Manor all night."

Pansy's eyebrows shot up. " _Stay out of my life,"_ she hissed. She dragged Draco into the apartment, slamming the doorway to the staircase behind her.

"So it's going well?" inquired Parvati, sidling up to Ernie to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He glowered at her, albeit affectionately. "I've no idea why they thought we would balance each other out," he said. "Minus compromising Heads who were staunchly good versus evil. But I'm glad McGonagall made you two the Gryffindor Prefects." Ernie straightened up abruptly. "There are… things going on that you can help take care of. We shouldn't talk about it here." His voice lowered significantly, and he looked over his shoulder to where Pansy had slammed the door. "I'll take you to the Basement."

* * *

"I don't know why on Earth they make you _crawl_ to get in here," said Parvati indignantly, straightening her robes when they entered the Hufflepuff common room.

As Ernie and Parvati started to squabble, Neville looked around. A slight twinge of regret went through him; _this_ is what he had wanted when he first came to Hogwarts. The room was homier than anywhere he had been in his life. The weather outside, he knew, was grey and cold today, but the round windows seemed to filter in what little sunlight they could find, basking the room in a comfortable yellow light. He felt sheltered, warm… safe… for the first time in two years.

"Let me go get Hannah," said Ernie, extracting himself from his argument with Parvati. Parvati flopped down on a black leather couch, groaning softly as she sunk into its massive cushions.

* * *

The four students sat around a round table, sipping hot Butterbeer that a wizened house-elf named Tolmey had brought in. "She's been bringing food to Justin," explained Hannah, licking the foam off the side of her tankard. "Dobby suggested she help us." She smiled as Tolmey set down a platter of piping-hot biscuits.

"Tolmey is in charge of the kitchens, sir," the elf told Neville as she topped off his Butterbeer. "The other house-elves do not question what Tolmey does, sir."

"Thanks so much," said Neville, smiling gratefully. Tolmey hobbled off up the stairs to take dishes from Justin. "So what have you heard, Ernie? What have the professors told you?"

"It's going to be bad." Ernie glanced around, making sure no one else was in earshot. "The Carrows have insisted upon a new discipline regime. Pansy and I were instructed this morning… on how to cast the Cruciatus Curse."

"My God," Hannah breathed, turning white. "Are Prefects going to have to learn that as well?"

 _And on whom will we practice it?_ thought Neville as he tightened his knuckles.

"I expect so," said Ernie grimly. "We have completely new lists of infractions with their respective punishments." He handed parchment copies to Neville, Parvati, and Hannah. They read down the list in horror. Words and phrases like _"Upholding Pureblood status"_ and _"unmitigated use of curses on perpetrators"_ swam in front of Neville's eyes.

"How did they even get this past the professors?" Neville asked, completely bewildered.

"Would you cross the Carrows? Or Snape? They've got You-Know-Who backing them now," said Ernie.

"It's not You-Know-Who now, it's the Dark Lord. That there's punishable by three nights of detention in the dungeon" a voice behind Neville said, making Neville jump.

" _Justin!_ You're not supposed to come down here!" scolded Hannah.

Justin shrugged. "Tolmey said no one else was down here. I figured I'd stretch my legs." He plopped down next to Neville and grabbed a biscuit. "Have to say, not going to classes is a lot less fun than I thought it was."

"You haven't gone to _class?"_ said Parvati incredulously.

"I imagine they'd ship me off to Azkaban, or worse," said Justin, crumbs spraying onto Neville's robes. "Sorry about that." He brushed them off. Neville thought Justin's hand lingered on his knee for half a second. He shook the thought from his mind.

"Can't believe you're the only Muggle-born who tried to come back," wondered Neville. "We figured some would come back… considering Hogwarts is safer than the Ministry rounding them up on the outside…"

"He wasn't the only one," said Ernie shortly. "There are seven students in the dungeons right now. Including the Creevey brothers. McGonagall doesn't know what's to be done with them."

"Shit," muttered Parvati under her breath.

Everyone echoed their assent.

"We have to break them out," said Justin simply. Neville nodded.

Hannah laughed. The note of hysteria couldn't be missed. "Just like that? We're just going to break them out? And where would we even put them?"

"The Room of Requirement. We have to get the Room of Requirement." Neville knew that the silence signaled his friends' agreement.

"And it has to be tonight," said Ernie. "We can't guarantee safety."

Neville pulled a slightly worn-looking Galleon out of his pocket. "Let's gather the troops."


	3. Chapter Three: Breaking Out

**A/N: thanks so much for reading!**

* * *

 _Chapter Three: Breaking Out_

"So you're _sure_ there isn't anyone guarding them?"

"I'm bloody positive, stop asking!" hissed Ernie through his teeth. It was almost dinnertime at Hogwarts; the only time where they could be sure that the Carrows and Headmaster Snape would be occupied.

"I'll take my group out. If you feel your Galleon burn, run," said Terry Boot tersely. He and a group of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth-years dispersed, heading around the corner, wands already drawn.

Neville took survey of those remaining: Luna, Ginny, Hannah, Susan Bones, Parvati, Padma, Seamus, Michael Corner (who kept shuffling away from Ginny), and Lavender. All had the same look of grim determination on their faces. "So, as we discussed," began Neville. Everyone turned towards him. "Ernie, Ginny, and I take point. The rest trail, and then-"

"What was that?" Lavender interjected, her voice higher than usual. A gong-like sound had started pealing in the distance.

"No time to worry about that, we just have to-" Seamus started, loudly.

"SEAMUS!" A familiar voice echoed down the hallway. "SEAMUS, YOU IRISH BASTARD, IS THAT YOU?"

"They've got _Dean!_ " Seamus growled. He started sprinting down the hallway. Neville caught the back of his robes.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Neville hissed. "You could have triggered a curse!" Seamus only spat on the ground.

Dean continued to yell. "WE'RE BACK HERE, WE NEED HELP, CREEVEY'S GOT A HEAD INJURY – WE'VE GOT NO WANDS OR ANYTHING…"

"WE'RE ON OUR WAY," called Ginny. Dean's yelling stopped.

Neville pulled his wand out of his robes. Ernie and Ginny were closer to the entrance of the hallway; they made it a couple of feet in before Neville caught up. "Here goes," Ernie breathed. He conjured a boulder and set it rolling down the hallway. It didn't go six feet before a silver net, crackling with energy, scooped it up. "Perfect."

The three continued down the hall in this manner, casting boulders and watching them get trapped in various ways, for about thirty feet. Finally, the came to a door made of iron, with a small window near the top.

There was no visible handle.

"Michael, come take a look at this," Ginny called over his shoulder. He walked cautiously back down the hall.

"I didn't detect any alarm spells being set off as you sent those boulders down," he said, fumbling with his wand. "But that doesn't mean Alecto doesn't have some sort of charm on her person, or-"

"We need you to figure out how to open this door," interrupted Ginny. "And quickly, especially if Alecto does have that charm on her."

"Right." He knelt down next to the door and started muttering incantations under his breath.

"Mike's brilliant at detection," muttered Ginny to Neville. "Flitwick gave him extra lessons last year on how to detect irregularities in magical fields and the like…" she trailed off.

Neville shoved his hands in his pockets; this was taking uncomfortably long.

 _Too long._ "OW!" Neville shrieked, pulling his hand out of his pocket. There was a Galleon-sized burn on his palm. He heard running coming from upstairs.

"Bar doors! Wands out! Stun only!" Luna's voice had lost its dreamy quality.

"I can't find anything!" said Michael, panicked.

"Just blast it, then!"

Seamus came sprinting down the hall. "We hear yelling from upstairs, it seems Boot is arguing with Amycus, thank Merlin he's a Prefect –"

"I found it!" shouted Michael suddenly." Indeed, a black box had suddenly appeared where a handle should be. "Now, just to – SHIT!"

A horrible grinding noise set Neville's teeth on edge. He whipped his head just in time to see Michael's fingers being fed into what could only be described as metal jaws. Michael had dropped to the floor, writhing in pain. Neville acted on his first instinct.

" _REDUCTO!"_

The box shattered, spewing blood and metal everywhere. Neville felt a piece scrape his face. But there was no time – he could hear even more feet upstairs now. "Ernie, Ginny, get Michael out of the way. Seamus, we have to blast it off its hinges. LUNA," he called down the hall, "We're going to need those Illusion Draughts –"

BANG.

Neville's ears were ringing. Horrified, he looked over at Seamus, who was, against expectations, grinning. "Door's gone," he said, pointing at an empty doorframe.

Inside, it was dark. A torch lay on the ground, flickering.

"Could have given us some warning, yeah?" Dean Thomas emerged from the cell, heaving the younger Creevey boy over his shoulder. "You might have almost chopped something off,"

"Fuck off, Thomas," said Michael, breathing heavily. Ginny had his hand wrapped in the hem of her robes. His face was as white as a sheet; he was losing a lot of blood.

"Let me look at that." Luna had made her way down the hallway, Illusion Draughts in hand. She shoved them into Neville's arms, then bent down to gingerly unwrap Michael's hand. "Merlin's beard…"

Three fingers on Michael's hand were gone. "That's my _wand_ hand," he whimpered. Blood continued to spurt from his hand. Luna took it gingerly, pulling out her wand at the same time. "I can stem the bleeding, but… We're going to have to figure out how to get your fingers back later," she said, her voice almost sing-song. With one tap of her wand, Michael's hand immediately stabbed over.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly, looking at his hand.

"We have to leave. Now," said Ernie, looking at his map of the school.

"What about our wands?" a tiny third-year asked. Her brown eyes were wide with fear.

"I don't… Hold on…" Neville looked around.

"Neville, there _is_ no holding on!" Ernie had scooped up the third-year in his arms. Luna and Ginny were supporting Michael and making their way towards the secret passageway that they were relying on. The rest of the group was already there, with Lavender holding the pendulum of a large grandfather clock to the side.

"I, uh…" Neville fumbled. " _Accio_ wands!"

There was a splintering sound a few doors down. Suddenly, seven wands came hurtling at Neville. He scrambled to catch them.

" _NEVILLE!"_

Clutching the wands to his chest, Neville sprinted down the hall and into the grandfather clock.

* * *

Seconds after the last of them had gone through, the Carrows crashed into the dungeon.

Their screams echoed throughout the castle.


End file.
